


Gareth

by PleasantlyWeird



Category: Theo James - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 23:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleasantlyWeird/pseuds/PleasantlyWeird
Summary: Born of a writing challenge. I had to incorporate a pomegranate into the story and this nightmare was born. I always had Theo James in my head as Gareth but had to search for Bhumi and decided that Deepika Padukone had the face I imagined as the goddess.





	Gareth

The same vision haunts his dream every night; it had been the same since he moved into this ramshackle old mansion in the heart of the south. The beautiful woman walks towards him, her hands out stretched, asking him for the unthinkable. A flash of red, something being ripped from her body, screams and a river of blood… then he wakes up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding in terror, his mouth dry and the last notes of a hoarse scream being ripped from his throat.

He throws his feet over the side of the bed and sits, swiping his hand down his face and looking at the neon numbers of his clock. He knows that it will say before his eyes even focus; 3.13 am. It’s the same time he wakes up every morning.

Walking to the kitchen he opens the fridge and grabs the orange juice. Pouring a glass he downs it quickly and refills the glass halfway. Closing the fridge he glimpses something sitting on the counter. A flash of red catches his eye and he knows it’s something that wasn’t there before.

Flipping on the overhead light he closes his eyes against the bright intrusion until they can adjust. His eyes slowly focus on the crimson colored object that sits in the exact center of the granite counter top.

He immediately picks it up and throws it in the garbage then washes his hands like he’s infected himself with a dread disease by touching it. Turning back to the counter he yelps when he sees it sitting in the same place again. Reaching above the stove he pulls the heavy cast iron skillet down and smashes it in one fell blow. He feels the seeds fly out and strike his bare chest but doesn’t look down. He leaves the skillet atop the smashed fruit and leaves the kitchen.

Walking back to his bedroom he smells her spice; it’s the only thing he can compare the smell of his living nightmare, his waking, walking horror to. He knows she’s waiting for him and he knows it doesn’t matter what door he goes to now, he’ll end up where she wants him.

“Lover,” she purrs from behind him as he steps through the gateway into her realm.

“Bhumi, please…” He knows his pleading will get him nowhere but he tries regardless.

“You are my chosen; you are to be the father of the new world. But you must submit to me freely. I’ve explained the rules to you before.”

Gareth snorts, his face screwed up as if he’s tasted a lemon. “And you think that by denying me sleep for days on end, torturing my every waking moment until I say yes is me submitting freely? You’re insane,” he cries. Then a short barking laugh comes from his chest, he is the one standing in his bedroom talking to a Hindu goddess after all; the irony isn’t lost on him.

“The price will be great for both of us, lover.”

“I am not, nor will I ever be your lover,” he snaps. The feeling of foreboding comes over him again and he pushes back at the melancholy, knowing that it’s just another one of her tricks.

“You will be mine; it’s been predestined since the dawn of time Gareth. You and I chose each other when the stars were being born into the night sky. You’re my chosen.”

“But I don’t choose you, can’t you see that? I don’t want you; I don’t want to usher in this new world you speak of. I don’t love you!”

Gareth paces, wondering how long she’ll torture him this early morning before she retreats into whatever corner of hell she lives in the rest of the time.

“How can you speak of love, discard the thought that I love you deeply so callously. Of course we love each other. Creation born out of anything less can’t conquer and it’s the destiny of our child to conquer this realm and many others.”

Sidling up behind him he feels her cold skin on his and he looks down at his sudden nudity, wondering if it’s a trick or has she really stripped him of his night clothes. Her hand snakes around his waist and her fingers tighten on his cock, making him gasp from the strength of her grip and her lack of body temperature. In spite of his fear and his repulsion he feels himself growing hard in her hand.

“You respond so sweetly,” she hisses with her forked tongue and he knows he’s dangerously close to giving in. Maybe if he gives this terror what it wants it will leave him and never return.

The hand disappears and he looks around, not seeing her but still smelling her. Then he feels her, she’s swallowing him into the sticky coldness of her mouth and his head falls back. He’s repelled but he can’t stop himself from shoving forward slightly to enter her completely. His mind is screaming for him to run but his traitorous body is making it impossible. His feet seems to be glued to the spot as he feels his resolve to never fuck this demon bitch weaken with every flick of her tongue.

“Yesssssss,” she hisses as he pushes forward again and puts his hand on the top of her head.

She stands and pulls him towards the bed, her clothes melting off of her and her smell turns from spice to the overpowering sweetness of pomegranates. It fills the room and his mouth waters. He dips his head to her center and smells the forbidden fruit there; his mind races as he tastes her and it’s nectar that feeds the insanity. How could he have resisted her for so long? He had been so blind, so clueless. He presses his face into her, sucking deeply and drawing more of the addictive taste from her cunt.

His eyes see colors he never knew existed; his mind thinks thoughts beyond his age and reason. She’s opening him up to knowledge that frightens him but quickens him all the same.

Her arms pull at him and he resists, not wanting to remove his lips from the flow of her honey; he shakes his head no and she laughs.

“Too much and you’ll burn away, lover. Come to me,” she sighs and he looks, seeing her anew. She’s devastatingly beautiful, a flower meant to be ravaged and pollinated with his seed. He knows now she’s spoken only the truth to him and a veil of forgetfulness has prevented him from seeing it until now. There’s been much wasted time; he has so much to regret when he could have had the manna of her body months ago when she first came to him.

Her arms spread above her head and the valleys and peaks of her body become a roadmap of his destiny. He sucks at her breasts, feeding on the white liquid that flows freely from them and growing harder than his body has ever been capable of before.

“Love me Gareth, give me our destiny.”

He hesitates, one last shred of sanity screams that it’s dangerous, that he’s dooming everything by giving in but reason is quickly shut down by the mother’s milk that spills past his lips. She is the Mother of all Creation, and he is Varaha and together they will destroy everything so that life can begin anew.

He crawls slowly on top of her and looks down at her beauty, weeping tears of crimson that splash down onto her and create craters in her until then flawlessness. She doesn’t flinch; she doesn’t cry out, she smiles, willing him to continue.

Pushing his length into her he feels her chill pull at him, sucking at his warmth, drawing the life out of him and making him icy like her. He grunts with exertion, it’s a task that must be done and he weeps harder, destroying her beauty one tear at a time. He presses harder into her and cries out, the feeling like razors shredding his cock inside of her but he forges on with grim purpose until he spills his frozen seed into her.

Her face is gone now and he falls back, shuddering as he watches her abdomen grow rapidly. Her stomach distends and he can hear skin ripping, tendons popping and bones breaking. Her shell trembles greatly one last time and he wails as he knows his love is gone from him where he can never find her.

The skin stretches pulls and breaks open and he sees the jackal crawl from the wreckage, eyes red and mouth slavering with hunger. Blood and entrails are pulled out behind it as it struggles to free itself from the mother it destroyed while becoming.

Gareth screams; the knowledge is complete now, he’s fathered the destroyer of worlds, the eater of souls, and the destruction of mankind. His offspring growls at him and stands staunchly on all fours, shaking his inky black pelt and sending blood and gore flying in all directions. He paints the room in red and death, a foreshadowing of the end of days he’s ushering in.

Running is futile but Gareth tries anyway, opening the bedroom door only to find that he’s facing the Devil again.

“Father,” it rasps, “I am hungry.”


End file.
